


Across the Street

by Caelicoe



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aobajousai still loses, Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Humor, High School, Oikawa Tooru Being Oikawa Tooru, Romance, Second-Hand Embarrassment, Slice of Life, Strangers to Lovers, awkwardness everywhere, slight smut if you squint
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-22 19:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30043407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caelicoe/pseuds/Caelicoe
Summary: Fusae has always loved drawing what’s around her, whether it be the sky, buildings, passers-by, or Oikawa Tooru. On the other side of the street, in the mirror of her apartment building, through the same window as hers: he is there, with his charming smile and his delicate features so worth of being immortalized on her drawing paper. He is living his life, oblivious to hers, the unknowing model to her best sketches. The street, their lives, everything stands between them. And yet, all it takes is one gust of the wind and a rambunctious dog for the two of them to come across each other. For the best and for the worst.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Original Female Character(s), Oikawa Tooru/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 4





	1. Sketch

**Author's Note:**

> I’m kinda anxious publishing this, since it’s a translation and I’m not sure whether my English is correct or not. Feel free to correct me if there’s some clumsy phrase here and there. For the moment, I hope you’ll like it. May you laugh and cry reading the story of Oikawa Tooru and this ridiculously awkward OC of mine~

The sunset ignited the sky that evening. It was a beautiful summer dusk, which bathed the city in gold and copper. Lovely enough to catch the eye, easy to claim and not impossible to reproduce on paper. That was the type of vistas that Fusae loved drawing. Those shapes, those shadows and those details no one usually acknowledged, not even her, suddenly caught all her attention. There she sat on her window edge, her leg jiggling above the street, as she gazed at the both dull and yet stunning skyline.

Her fingers would dance helplessly, clutched around the pencil which ran across the paper. Everything bloomed and died on the sheet as she wished. She recreated everything her bluish eyes would embrace, not exactly the same but not very different either. The lack of technique was tangible in her hesitant pencil strokes, in her uncertain drawings, but she was fine with it. These imperfect and unachieved works were part of her daily life.

Her eyes swept on the alarm clock: twenty-five past six.

“Just a few more seconds.”

Fusae’s whisper echoed in her quiet bedroom. At her feet, her dog Kabu looked up without moving, her ears perking up at the sound of her owner’s voice. She smiled, even though the pet certainly ignored what it meant, before looking back impatiently at the street. Only a few minutes left.  
It was as if her phone felt all the good vibes radiating from her, because the music in her headphones built up. It felt like the world was finally set into movement, after watching it at a standstill for a while. And just when the melody reached its climax, an explosion of notes in her ears and her heart, _he_ walked around the street corner. That figure that Fusae was expecting every evening for one special goal. The girl seized her second sketchbook, a smaller one with a bright-red cover which she kept within hand reach. She opened it and flipped through the pages until she found an empty one. Then her gaze settled on him, and him only.

Oikawa Tooru — whose name she’d discovered barely a few weeks before — was strolling up the street. His brown locks were messy, uncombable as always, and yet so perfect. They fell upon his delicate face, so pretty even though she could only see his profile. He had buried his hands in the pockets of the white and turquoise jacket he only wore on weekdays. His broad shoulders and his tall height might look scary for some, but the bright smile that lit up his face from time to time made up for everything, absolutely everything.

_It should be illegal to be this handsome._

He didn’t look at her – he never did, actually – but Fusae didn’t mind. She didn’t want to be a part of his life ; it was enough to watch him from afar and never take part in it. She was content to simply immortalize his features under the evening light. And she could never hold back her smile as she watched her doodles, while Oikawa turned his back to her, too busy typing his code on his apartment building gate to notice her.  
Every evening was like this. He would return from his volleyball training in late afternoon, Fusae would draw a quick portrait of him in her sketchbook, and he would go home. All of this with no eye contact and no word spoken, absolutely no glance toward the fourth floor window from where the girl was quietly spying on him. It had become a habit since she’d moved in a few months before. Nothing could break apart this order that had been established in the darkest secret, and she was perfectly fine with it. Until she was brought back to reality, as always…. and that evening, what popped her bubble was her bedroom door being slammed open.

“Oi, Fusae. D’you have some sellotape?”

The young artist jumped in surprise and glanced fearfully at her older sister, Minako. The same long jet black hair and steel-blue eyes, a petite frame and a childish freckled face just like hers; you could think these two girls were twins if you didn’t know that one was six-year-older than the other. Even though she attended Hokkaido's College, she had come back home for the vacation and had been spicing up Fusae’s daily life for about a month now.

“Uh– no– Maybe? I think I do,” the younger one stuttered, desperately trying to look innocent.

“Do you have some or not?”

She glanced confusingly at her, before answering in a sigh.

“Left drawer of the desk.”

“You sure about that?”

“Minako, I still know my own bedroom.”

“Fine, fine! I’m only saying this before you remember you stashed some rubbers or something like that in here.”

Confusion swept across Fusae’s features, but she didn’t reply. Her sister rolled her eyes boringly and started searching for what she had come for. While keeping a close eye on her, the younger of the two let her gaze wander across the street: Oikawa was still outside. He was tapping irritatingly on the pad of his entry code. She pursed her lips. Her own entry code had been changed that week, it might have been the same for his apartment building and he wasn’t told.

“What’re you looking at, like this?”

Minako’s voice echoed into the room and snapped her out of her thoughts; she had forgotten that she wasn’t alone. Her older sister had just closed her chest drawer and was staring at her, glancing curiously at the window where she sat.

“N-nothing, only– only the street.”

Panicking a little bit, Fusae jumped to her feet to face her sister who had inched closer, a clear hint of curiosity in her gaze. Minako craned her neck to get a glimpse of what was catching her eyes outside, but fortunately, she changed her mind at the last minute.

“Counting the clouds again?”

“Wha–? Of course no, I’m no longer 8, Minako!”

“Then what is it?”

The younger took her time answering, slightly gaping at her sister. What was easier to tell her? The fact that she was definitely stalking at their cute neighbor to draw him in her sketchbook, or accepting facts that were true at some time in her youth and would never raise questions. Actually it was an easy choice.

“Fine,” she sighed, folding her arms defensively, “I was bored, right?”

“I see that,” her sister replied skeptically before shrugging it off, “Whatever, you won’t be bored any longer since you gotta go set the table.”

“What? Again?”

“Yeah, we’re eating twice a day now, it’s a new thing mom wanna try.”

The last words caused Fusae to cast a jaded look at her, before they both laughed quietly. There was no doubt about it; her sister may have been the biggest pain in her ass, but she could be funny when she wanted. And though she wasn’t enthusiastic about the chore waiting for her, the youngest of the Ichihara sibilants didn’t protest much. She only followed Minako out of her room.

“Thanks for the sellotape, dummy,” she hummed. “And while we’re at it, you should close your window before something ends up falling out of it.”

“Oh yeah, your dignity you mean? Problem solved, it doesn’t exist.”

Minako quickly slapped the back of her head, too quickly for her to spare it, but Fusae was way too proud of her joke to really feel the pain and only burst out laughing. The bickering didn’t cease, even when they walked into the leaving room and started helping their mother with the chores. A frivolous atmosphere reigned in the room and in the entire apartment, so strong and nice that no one could resist it. So strong and nice that you could only give in to it body and soul. So strong and nice that none of them noticed the wind blowing Fusae’s sketchbook away.


	2. Tumble

It took Fusae a whole twenty-four hours to realize that one of her sketchbooks was missing. When the moment came, right after she had returned from high school and sat down on her window edge with her drawing tools, her plans were considerably delayed by this curious disappearance. She might well have turned her room upside down, emptied her school bag and searched under and behind every piece of furniture, nothing changed. The sketchbook where she gathered all the portraits of her charming neighbor remained nowhere to be found.

Fear froze her blood and heart. If the drawings weren’t very incriminating, it still contained no less than thirty portraits of the same person, whom she had never talked to so far, and she wasn’t looking forward to seeing it in the wrong hands. Whether it be her mother’s or sister’s hands, in particular, since they could both recognize the model; or even Oikawa’s own hands. Fusae shook her head nervously: she _had to_ find it back.

“Oi old tart, mom’s calling you to– what the heck happened in here?”

She jumped to Minako’s interruption in the room, and she stood up sighing. As if she needed this right now… Her sister stood in the doorway, gaping at the mess she had just made while searching – but also thankfully preventing her from walking any further into the room.

“Nothing, just looking for something… Have you seen a bright red sketchbook, by chance?”

“A sketchbook? Uh, as far as I can remember, nope. That’s why you’re turning your room into a garbage dump?”

“Kinda,” she nodded before searching again. “I had it yesterday, cause I know I used it to draw something, but I can’t manage to find it back.”

“Ah, that’s sad,” Minako laughed.

“Yeah, whatever… What’re you doing here, by the way? Weren’t you supposed to take Kabu on her walk?”

Silence answered her question, carrying more meaning than any other word. Fusae looked up from her sock basket to stare at her older sister, who was hopping up and down embarrassingly.

“Actually,” she winced, slipping a lock of her dark hair behind her ear, “Kyo-kun’s asked me out tonight, and I was wondering if you could–”

“Wait, no! No, that’s clearly out, I really can’t right now.”

“Please! Please Fusae, I’ll make up for it but please!”

“But I–”

“Please!” 

While pleading her, Minako had hopped inside the room, straddling over heaves of clothes and other stuff to face her little sister. She grabbed both her hands to help her stand up, which she did half-heartedly.

“I’ll buy you whatever you want,” she promised, pouting slightly, “but it may be the last time I’m seeing him before I fly back to Hakodate, and I’d like to take the chance.”

For a while, Fusae remained silent, staring at her only one sister. At that very moment, she noticed her cheeks painted with pink and the thin stroke of eyeliner on her eyelids, as well as the flowery dress she only donned on special occasions. Minako had literally dolled up for her date with her fiancé; how could Fusae dare refuse such a tiny, tiny request? She sighed and her older sister must've read the surrender in her eyes, for she lit up at once.

“Fine, I'm gonna try and–”

“Thanks, you're the best! I'll make up for it, I promise you!” Minako shrieked with happiness, cutting her off.

“Humph, don't worry, have fun tonight.”

“I'll sure do~”

The young lady cooed a quick “thanks” and cheerfully gambolled out of the room, just like a Disney princess surrounded with birds. Fusae's gaze followed her for a short while, before she sighed again. Anyway, she was struggling to get hold of her sketchbook. Taking her dog on a walk could at least help her clear her mind.  
On that thought, she jumped to her feet and slowly headed for the corridor. As she walked past her sister's bedroom, she caught a glimpse of Minako getting ready with the help of their mother. They smiled and laughed frivolously, their joy tangible from afar. A feeble smile spread across Fusae's lips; she had made the best decision.

Kabu joined her as soon as she flopped down on the genkan floor to put her shoes on. The pup – a Siberian husky cross-bred with a Belgian shepherd – was more loving than what her fearsome wolf dog appearance could suggest. She pressed her damp nose against her owner's shoulder, wagging her tail as she looked up at her. The teenage girl chuckled and patted her head lovingly, before leaving the apartment.

“Calm down, Kabu,” she told her once they had both walked out of the apartment building.

For she had barely put a toe outside before her dog had taken up her old habit again of straining against her leash, too happy to go on a walk. And as much as she tried, Fusae struggled to keep the upper hand with all the weight of her soaking wet 110 pounds. Consequently it was more Kabu who walked her owner instead of the other way around.

It took them only ten minutes to reach the public park where the dog loved playing around and roll on the lawn, as well as the only dog-friendly public park. Children's babblings and laughs welcomed the two of them as they stepped onto the main path of the park, an explosion of joy on this flowery background. The summer heats had gathered up teenagers and grade-schoolers in green spaces, who desperately sought the cool shade of the trees. Everyone looked pretty much as excited as Kabu there; the dog didn't know which way to turn. Here there were kids running around, and a few yards further some teens playing with a soccer ball. Everything seemed so _fun_.

“Mom, look at the doggo!” a little girl exclaimed, waving at them.

Fusae flashed a polite smile in her direction, but mentally thanked the girl's mother for holding her back when she attempted to run toward Kabu. Of course the pup would've loved playing with her, but she remained frisky and impetuous, and sending a child to the hospital wasn't on tonight's agenda. All she wanted for now was walking across the park as quickly as possible to head straight back home and search for her sketchbook.

“Come on, Kabu,” she grumbled, slightly tugging on the leash to divert the dog's attention from a frisbee on their left.

The pet resisted for a short while, before following her owner more or less obediently. The exit of the park was only a few yards away. Soon they would leave this hustle and bustle, which was driving both the owner and the dog crazy. At any moment, Kabu could start running out of the blue, and Fusae wasn't sure that she would be able to hold her back. When they finally made it out of the park and were back on the rough tarmac of the sidewalk, the black-haired girl let out a sigh of relief. Nonetheless, there was still more trouble to come.

For when Fusae looked up, a very familiar figure appeared in her field of vision. The very same figure that she would await every evening, half hidden behind her curtains. The very same figure she would spy on from her bedroom window, like Rapunzel in her ivory tower. The very same figure she was so fond of drawing again and again, tirelessly, all day and all night. Her heart sank and she almost forgot to breathe. Oikawa Tooru stood a few yards away from her.

“Just chill out, Iwa-chan, some cute girls from the 1-A invited me to a karaoke Saturday night, you should tag along~”

His voice sounded clear and mellifluous, as delicately sweet as his features, but not very deep either. A hint of mischief colored it, as if his each and every word was chosen carefully to spark a specific reaction in his friend. It sure was tunefully disturbing.

“I don't know, Oikawa, I've got a ton of homework to do…” 

“My, my… you're way too serious, Iwa-chan, you sound like you have a stick up you know where~”

Fusae's eyes glided toward the boy walking next to him, who frowned at the words he'd just spoken. She had seen him a few times before when spying on her neighbor from her bedroom window. It was a brown-haired high school boy, as beefy as Oikawa and yet maybe a little shorter than him, with a constantly serious look which clashed with his friend's frivolity. That didn't stop them from getting along and bickering, as far as the girl had seen over the past weeks. Sometimes it even reminded her of her never-ending quarrels with Minako. It was enthralling. Maybe one day she would be able to draw the two of them?

As she thought of this, Fusae realized she had been shamelessly staring at them for seconds, and she forced herself to look away before the boys noticed her. Instead she focused on Kabu who, for a reason the girl couldn't explain, tugged so hard on her arm that she was on the verge of ripping it off her body.

“Kabu,” she hissed, slightly pulling on the leash to try and calm her down.

She even glanced confusedly over her shoulder, looking at the park's hustle which was now far behind them. How come her young pup was still boisterous? Fusae nervously glanced around in search of what could get her so worked-up. Nothing. Nothing but the small object her eyes ended up finding, in the hands of the person she strived to avoid at all cost; a volley-ball. She froze at the same moment as Kabu's ears perked up, on the alert.

“Stay,” she commanded her dog, whose brown eyes literally sparkled with anticipation.

A few yards away from them, the ball was moving continuously: it danced and flew in the air, bounced against Oikawa's palms and rolled on his fingers, as he mechanically juggled it from one hand to the other. In the middle of the discussion with his friend, the volley-ball player had noticed neither the dog's insistent gaze on him nor Fusae's more apprehensive one. He just kept making the ball whirl and soar, throwing it in the air and catching it back tirelessly – the master of his movements as much as the master of himself.

Unfortunately Oikawa wasn't the master of everything, and he found this out pretty quickly.

It is hard to determine which element caused the succession of events that followed, for while Fusae experienced it all in slow motion, everything flowed so fast that it lasted a few seconds at most. At first, Oikawa's gaze fell upon her figure. However indifferent it might be, just as any glance you cast at a stranger in the street, the high school girl found herself stunned, muscles paralyzed by all her fears about him. It only lasted for a split second, and yet it was enough for Kabu to feel it. The dog felt her owner's loosening grip on the leash – an opportunity she couldn't miss at all. And she seized it. Leaping as highly as forcefully, the beast threw herself toward the ball.

“K-Kabu, wait!” Fusae cried upon realizing the leash was slipping from her grasp.

It was already too late when the girl's fingers closed on the leather strip of the harness – and it may have been her worst mistake. The dog's momentum flung her forward so suddenly that she didn't have time to raise her hands to soften the fall. Her knees and left forearm first hit the ground in a loud thump, then her face collided with the scorching asphalt shortly thereafter.

At once, an unpleasantly dizzying tingle ran across her spine and pain exploded in her skull. A throbbing, consuming pain, so powerful that her breath was taken away and that she nearly forgot her dog who'd slipped from her. _Nearly_ – it helped her keep her mind more or less clear, at least. She had to catch her again, she had to push her sufferance in the background and get back on her feet, she had to stop Kabu from making something stupid. It was more than urgent.

On that thought, Fusae pushed on her shivering forearm as a support to pick herself up. Her vision was blurry and full of stars, but she still saw it – and however surreal the scene was, it felt like a final blow. A few yards away, among the phosphenes dancing like mad around his svelte figure and next to Kabu who happily bounced up and down, there he stood. For the very first time in her life, Oikawa Tooru was laying eyes on her.


	3. From bad to worse

Fusae floundered in haziness. Lights flickered before her eyes, and sounds pierced through her skull to painfully echo in her mind, deafeningly loud among the frantic beatings of her heart. Each of her gestures, even uncertain, made her dizzy and nauseous. Even the idea of sitting up made her feel like she would throw up her breakfast. She tottered. It suddenly seemed like the fire in her knees, arms and cheeks has intensified. How could you get this hurt when falling? Would it leave scars? And how come the only thing she had in mind was her neighbor's face?

The girl held back a plaintive moan between two gasps. It was the first time Oikawa noticed her, and she came the biggest cropper ever. Not only did she suffer, but she also made a laughing stock of herself.

“You okay?”

A male voice which the high school girl couldn't identify. She looked up at the owner of this voice, only to close her eyes immediately out of dizziness. When everything settled, a both familiar and stranger face appeared in her field of vision. Oikawa's friend, Iwaizumi Hajime according to the kanjis sewn on his jersey, was looking at her worriedly. What was his question, again? The words he had spoken were getting lost in her pain. His cool fingers brushed around her wrist consumed by the flames.

“Hold onto me,” he murmured, slipping his other hand on her waist to pick her up.

“M-my dog,” she mouthed quietly.

“Don't worry, it's over there with my friend. I don't know which one has an eye on the other, though.”

Her vision turned cloudy intermittently, but she managed to follow his gaze toward a quite surreal scene. Oikawa's svelte figure proudly stood out in the distance, before a Kabu on the alert. The dog sat docilely, looking with longing at what he held over his head to keep it out of her reach. He squinted, not taking his beautiful brown eyes off the pup as if she could lose it at any time.

Fusae saw him turn his head toward her just as the pain roared in his cheek, and she looked down almost immediately. Even though Oikawa's friend was supporting her, she felt her legs turn to jelly. Each of her steps shook her entire body and intensified her stomach cramps. So when she realized that her rescuer was carrying her toward a bank, she flopped down on the seat at once.

“Stay here,” Iwaizumi told her before straightening up. “Oi, Shittykawa! Bring your water bottle!”

She flinched at his yell and carefully turned toward the said “Shittykawa”, who hadn't moved an inch, staring suspiciously at Kabu.

“It's tryna eat my volley-ball, Iwa-chan.”

He had whined it out almost childishly, not looking away from the dog. A sigh escaped Iwaizumi, who then rolled his stony dark eyes.

“I don't care!” he shouted. “My bottle's empty, so bring yours, this girl's injured.”

This declaration was met with silence at first, a brief, heavy silence. Then out of the blue, Oikawa's shoulder twitched nervously, as his lips curled up in a smile, and he finally turned around to look at them, a glint of malice in his eyes.

“Of course she is, after the cropper she's come,” he chuckled, hiding his mouth behind the back of his hand. “But I'm coming, Iwa-chan~” 

Fusae turned crimson and looked down shamefully, while her neighbor's snicker echoed into the sun-bathed street as well as in her mind. As if she needed it right now… To make things worse, she was starting to feel giddy. Her fingers clutched on the bank edge.

“Don't listen to him, he's a dumbass,” Iwaizumi said, crouching in front of her to examine her cheek.

“I-it's okay, I… I really fell flat on my face.”

“I don't know what you could've done you know, your dog weighs almost as much as you. You were a human flag at this point.”

“Are you trying to be funny, Iwa-chan~?”

Both the teens looked up simultaneously at Oikawa, who had discreetly inched closer to them and handed a water bottle to his friend. Kabu was on his heels, her attention still focused on the ball he kept under his arm. After a quick glance at the dog, Aobajohsai’s captain looked down at Fusae amusingly:

“You made a real mess of yourself, didn’t you?” he remarked with a disarming smile – oh, how she dreamt to draw him with this smile.

Fusae blinked out of dizziness. For a short while, she didn’t dare say anything. Then her cheeks, her temples and her entire face flared up. She felt like her stomach was swarming with those butterflies that she’d heard of before. Her head spun again. Some stars danced around him, out of control. There, at that very moment where Oikawa was raising an eyebrow curiously, Fusae bent over. And, doubling over painfully, she puked up all of her stomach’s content on his sneakers.

An awkward silence followed.

The embarrassment was such that you could have heard a pin drop on the other side of the town if you listened carefully. Fusae had her eyes wide open, horrified and petrified by her own gesture. She didn’t dare move, she didn’t dare sit up, she didn’t dare look at Oikawa. He had frozen as well, and so had his friend. Time seemed to have stopped. Even the wind had died down. The only thing that proved life was still going was Kabu, who was wagging her tail a few steps away from them.

“This… wasn’t… necessary…”

Her neighbor’s voice quivered as he broke the silence. The teenage girl wanted to straighten up, to babble a thousand apologies, but she couldn’t. A blush of shame spread across her entire face and paralyzed her. She’d been obsessed over this boy for months, since the day she had taken him as a model for her drawings. And the day when she met him, the day when he looked at her for the first time, she ended up falling flat on her face and throwing up on him. Fusae wanted to die.

“Here, take this,” Iwaizumi simply murmured.

She turned a panicked gaze at him, who was handing out a tissue, not at all disturbed by what had just happened. The girl found herself too dumbfounded to utter anything more than a quiet “thanks” as she slowly took the tissue. She was already very shy with strangers, but the awkwardness hovering above the three of them didn’t leave much place for a friendly discussion.

“I’m not a doctor, but–” Iwaizumi vaguely pointed a finger at her knees and cheek. “You should clean this before it gets infected.”

“Oh, how long did it take to jump to this conclusion, Iwa-chan?”

“Shut up, you moron!”

On these words, Iwaizumi threw his pack of tissues in his face. Other digs followed, but Fusae weren’t able to focus on them. Her gaze lingered on her neighbor’s ruined shoes, then she sighed. She needed to pull herself together and head home, first to dress her wounds and to take Kabu away from that ball which caught all her attention, but also and mostly to hide herself from Oikawa Tooru as soon as possible. She ran her shaking hand over the burning skin of her face. She no longer felt dizzy. Wanting to seize this occasion, she carefully stood up.

“I’m sorry,” she squeaked, bowing to Oikawa just as the decorum required. “I’ll buy you new shoes.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Iwaizumi chipped in and she turned around. “He can still wash them himself.”

“Wha–? Don’t answer in my name!” her neighbor protested.

“You’re not gonna make her pay for a new pair of shoes, are you?!”

“I insist,” Fusae said, to Iwaizumi’s surprise. “But for now– I think I’m just gonna head straight home.”

Both the boys stared at her for a while, before nodding unconvincingly. Well, it was mostly Iwaizumi’s reaction, for Fusae was careful enough to avoid any eye contact with her neighbor – she was so not ready to face him for the moment, especially after ruining his shoes with the content of her stomach.

“You sure about that?” The smaller one asked, and she acquiesced. “Do you live far from here?”

“Not very far, it’s okay. Kabu?”

It only took the dog a slight flick of the tongue from her owner to hop at her feet obediently. Her brown eyes were still fixed on the ball under Oikawa’s arm, while he eyed her suspiciously. And without realizing Fusae was watching him, he angrily hid the ball behind his back, before slightly scoffing at the dog. He was nearly sticking his tongue out at her. Was it really the boy she had been stalking for months, picturing him mature and galant?

“Sorry again, and– thanks for helping me.”

“You’re welcome, it was a pleasure~” Oikawa cooed, but his friend slapped the back of his head.

“Shut up, you did nothing,” Iwaizumi growled, before focusing on the only girl in the conversation. “Are you sure you don’t want us to walk you home? We’re living nearby too.”

“Iwa-chan, you’re really flinty…”

For a short while, Fusae considered this quite risky offer. She didn’t want Oikawa to find out they were neighbors, especially after what had happened. However, even though she no longer felt dizzy, the black-haired girl felt the strength leaving her muscles. She didn’t know how she would be able to hold back Kabu if she ever jumped again like she had done a few minutes before. Moreover, her strained knees still hurt, and she feared that her legs gave out on her way home. It would suck.

So she managed a weak smile and slightly nodded.

“As you wish.”


End file.
